You outdoor sketchers who are trying the thing for the first time may find yourselves annoyed, oeea-sionally (especially if working in erowded places),hy people hanging around to watch you work. They may even offer unkind remarks, sueh as, “See the drawrer. Looks like he is just learning,” or “Say, Mister, I know where there is something prettier to paint than that old canal boat! And it would be easier for you, too!” They may go so far as to crowd around until your view of your subjeet is completely cut off. See the poor artist in the aeeompanying illustration, for in-stance! This sketch of a typieal predicament, by the way, was made a few weeks ago (believe it or not—^we don’t) on one of the Hudson River boats on an excursion to Bear Mountain. In ease of such a erowd, what to do? In one pro-tective method which has many followers the artist arises now and then, with the greatest of dignity, and passes the hat. One might even buy a monkey and train him to do the same thing. In another method, guaranteed to disperse a erowd quiekly and effectively, the artist has a pocket full of fountain pens, dollar watches, or gadgets of some sort. When his spectators press elose to wateh him work, he suddenly interrupts with a sales talk on the excellence of his pens or watches, holding them up for display! He may even get a eustomer. Who knows?
Illustration—from a woodcut iu Harper’s Monthly, December, 1864 (and which inspired the ahove non-sense )—represents an aetual condition of that pe-riod. It aecompanied an article hy the artist-author, J. Ross Browne, who wrote:—”Sketching in Arizona is, to a man of mercurial temperament, rather a ticklish pursuit. I shall not readily forget my experience of the canons and thiekets, and the queer feeling produced hy the slightest sound that fell upon my ears as I hurriedly committed the outlines to paper. It has heen my for-tune to furnish the world with sketches of Madagas-car, Zanzibar, Palestine, the Continent of Europe, Iceland, and some few other points, many of which were achieved under circumstances of peculiar diffi-
culty; hut I never hefore traveled through a country in which I was compelled to pursue the fine arts with a revolver strapped around my hody, a douhle-harreled shot-gun lying across my knees, and half a dozen soldiers armed with Sharpe’s earhines keeping guard in the distance. Even with all the safeguards of pistols and soldiers I am free to admit that on occasions of this kind I frequently looked hehind me to see how the country appeared in its rear aspect. An artist with an arrow in his baek may he a very picturesque ob-jeet to contemplate at one’s leisure; but I would rather draw him on paper than sit for the portrait myself. All the way up from Fort Yuma I was upset by these diffieulties; and if any man of genius and enterprise thinks he eould do better under the circumstances he is welcome to try.
Here is the tip for the water colorist. To prevent quick drying( i am think of these warm days out of oors), add ten of fifteen drops of glycerine to a tumbler of water. Alcohol will aceelcrate drying.